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I’ve now seen all six parts of the ”Origin” minisodes” for Marvel’s Spider-Man and figured an edit joining them all up was due. Not much radically different other than the fact I removed the final moments of webisode three with Peter crashing into a wall off screen

For Peter Parker, his entire adult life had been the personification of that dream

Soaring high above the city in his guise as Spider-Man, swinging with almost no cares for the world below.

Almost no cares.

And then the realization dawned on him as he swung past the Empire State Building.

His favourite spot to be with his favourite person.

A person he’d been left waiting back at the Coffee Bean for the better part of two and a half hours.

That’s the price you pay for engaging in a less than pacy pursuit with an aging Adrian Tooms.

Peter threw every bit of energy he hadn’t spent yet in making it back to the Coffee Bean, only to find it had closed up for the night.

Changing back into his civvies in the cold brisk February evening at the back of the alleyway didn’t do much for his dignity, but at least it wasn’t going to shred it.

Peter took his trusty bike and drove back down the road that stretched back to Queens, where he caught sight of his favourite Aunt talking to his favourite person. Mary Jane Watson.

He drove up and hastily got off the bike to meet her as she caught sight of him and tried to put some distance between them. Peter wasn’t about to let her go, not without giving her an apt opportunity to pounce on him.

He loved it when she displayed some temper.

“MJ, I am so sorry” he said

“Save it. Flash took me home. In a car”

“What’s wrong with my bike?” Peter asked

“More to the point, what’s wrong with you Tiger?” MJ asked, pointing at his chest with a sharp finger.

Peter thought on his feet. “I made a promise to someone” he said

“Another one?”

Peter nodded

“Did you let them down too?”

Peter’s mind raced back to the socialite who’s valuables were stolen by Tooms, and during the scuffle between him and The Vulture, the crook had dropped the valuables down a chimney.

“I kinda did, yeah, I’m not going to start lying”

“Now anyway” MJ said.

“Yeah” Peter remarked.

Mary Jane sighed.

“Look Pete, you and I…I don’t think it’s working out”

“You want to talk about working out? I’ve got this killer gym membership…”

“Not the time for jokes Pete” MJ said, cutting him off.

“The only good timing I have is comic timing”

“See, that’s the hardest thing about this…’cause you make me laugh so much” MJ replied.

“Best medicine that” Peter replied.

“Flash advised me to read you the riot act..but I just can’t do it. I don’t think your mental reality can take stark reality…and I don’t think I could do without your kind of crazy”

“Something always comes up with you. The important thing is you always try to make up for it…and that’s the kind of promise you can do with keeping…because one day you may want to make an even bigger promise”

Peter glanced up at the night sky

“Look” he said

MJ turned her head and stared upwards, they both fixated their gaze on the sparkling moon above.

“That’s what I promise you. Every time. Every moment I spend with you, night and day, you take me there…one day, I promise, they’ll be no limit to where we can go”

TEN YEARS LATER

In dreams, you can fly.

In life, you land hard

And ten years ago, gravity seldom had mercy.

As Peter hung on for dear life as The Vulture soared through the city, through a crisp February night, Peter’s webbing tagged to his right foot, he thought how far things had come in the past decade, he couldn’t help but think of that night, and what he had promised.

He stared upwards at the moon above and wondered if this would be the last time he’d be taken there.

And then another strand of webbing attached itself to the Vulture’s left foot, and out of nowhere a vicious red-headed vixen was propelled from the nearby rooftops and joined Spidey in flight.

“Hey Tiger, what’s up?” said MJ as she crawled upwards and reached out towards the back of the bag attached to Toom’s back, pulling out the jewellery he had stolen from yet another socialite. She tucked it neatly into a small satchel at her right side.

“Hey, I made a promise I’d hand that back” said Peter.

“Oh let me hand it back Tiger, after all, we share all our promises”

Beneath the mask he wore, Peter’s face beamed with pride.

Behind the mask MJ wore, her eyes sparked with affection and love.

As Spider-Man and his wife Spinneret clung to The Vulture and soared elegantly across the sky, they elected to give the brash bird of prey an additional few minutes of great struggle just to take in the exquisite sight of the moon high above them.

Watching them from afar from a nearby window was their daughter, Annie May, in the midst of getting changed for bed as it was a school night, she was slightly perplexed at why it was taking them so long to apprehend Adrian.

She glanced upwards and spotted the cause.

“Oh great, full moon, that means everyone’s going stir crazy” she said with a groan, the significance of the sight all but lost on her naive adolescent sense of self.

When she came of age, she would come to understand.

To her, the moon was a conventional wonder of the world.

To her parents, it represented a grand promise.

In the past her mother had taken her father there on many an occasion when he felt like gravity had no mercy.

But now that they were together, in sickness, health, power, and responsibility, there was no limit to where they could go.

Five days to go until the return of the real Peter and MJ folks…make your way to your LCS on November 9th and support this release so they can come home to 616 where they belong.

Also, take note of the poster on Annie’s wall…Carol Danvers as she presently looks, meaning this is an alternative present and not the late 80s/early 90s retro world the Battleworld version of RYV was set in last year

Note: Well, as any fan of Mayday knows, ASM#8 sees her return to the printed page as part of the Spider-Verse comics event. Alas, it seems Dan Slott has chosen to put her and her family through the emotional wringer. I know some of you are probably upset by this, but hey, look on the bright side, this could easily be retconned down the road as one of many similar alternate realitys.

Relax. It’s comics. The continuous positive and negative of this business is this:

Everything is temporary.

DC’s Helena Wayne was killed off in Crisis on Infinite Earths, and she’s currently active as Huntress again. Hell, all of Earth-2 was destroyed once in the same event, and has since been restored/rebooted

So here’s a little story to keep some fresh hope alive until the day Marvel gives Mayday stability again. There’s no true despair without it!

-Zarius

Disclaimer: Mayday and the MC2 Universe are owned and trademarked by Marvel Comics.

My name is May Parker, I am the daughter of Spider-Man, and I’m not allowed to take strange things home with me.

That’s the rule.

It’s occasionally bent when push comes to shove, but anything that could pose a true danger to the family need not be invited so readily into the Parker household.

This is a tad different. It poses no danger. At least not to anyone staring inside the window, looking within the worlds on offer like they were a snow globe

No, this is something that affects only the mind.

In my hand I hold the Quantum Bolt. Recovered from the Neither Prisms by a contingent of Spider-Men led by a version of my father that had been seasoned in multi-dimensional experience. That and a few other hang-ups.

He told me my mom was made out of H20 in his universe. Very weird.

He also told me to take this to my dad, he said he’d understand. He had helped recover the bolt once before from the Frightful Four.

It is said it can create and sustain a whole multi-verse. Not just one world or two, but a vast infinite realm of possibility.

Most of the time the bolt was used to channel positive messages, and as a result it created worlds with positive outcomes. But then it became corrupted by the High Evolutionary of the Counter-Earth once visited by the Spider-Man that had seemingly seen the unlimited scope of every possible reality. The bolt was injected with a type-A disruptive pathogen forged from the blood of a cloned chaos demon. The Quantum Bolt began corrupting and disrupting the otherwise perfectly stable realitys, infecting the thoughts and feelings of the people inhabiting it’s network of parallel worlds, causing them to act out-of-character.

I recall the strange dreams I had not too long ago, nightmares of a brand new day that invited big time change, only to lead to less than superior heartbreak.

My mom told me we Parkers would never break like that in real life.

The nightmares continued even after that. I dreamt a whole plethora of hunters called “Inheritors” came looking for my family seeking to feast on something called Totem energy, they broke into our house and burned it to the ground. Nobody was safe. Not Mom, not Dad. Not even Wes.

Wes. I have to keep him safe from the strange, strange things I bring home to us.

So many responsibilities.

I took a peek inside the bolt, a small triangular orb held aloft within a glass hexagon prism, tiny nebulas dancing around each other, nested together like bees in a hive.

It was like looking through a kaleidoscope. The bolt sensed it was being observed, and it opened it’s realms to the splinter of my eye. I saw the corruption first hand, the inversions, the axis, the avenged and the x in the equation, disassembling, reassembling, I saw the Other, I saw the totem, I saw the Silk, I saw the turn of the cat, I saw…

…Nonsense.

Utter. Nonsense.

My mom would turn and mock the strange let alone face it. The High-Evolutionary had sacrificed consistency of character for inane stunts that flew in the face of how the heroes of my world, the heroes of many reality’s, acted. This was an anti-verse, a nexus of improbable decision making and poor choices.

What manner of evolution do you call this?

Of course, I realized this was the counter-Earth Evolutionary, so it would make sense out of how counter-productive this all was.

And worse, I glimpsed worlds where my nightmares had come true.

The bolt’s nature remains a mystery, it contains within a fragment of space and time, what if every creeping thought, every fear, every weakness, had been channelled into the bolt like a conduit? What if the bolt in turn channelled it out?

Chicken and the egg syndrome. What passed through first?

The strings that bind this web of life together are delicate, and it surprises me that we Parkers can be made to look as fragile as butter in these worlds of negative consequences

I need to bring the strange homeward. I need to tell my dad, and we need to fulfil a promise.

No matter who ore what comes looking for the Quantum Bolt, we Parkers will not scatter, we will not flee.

We will fight.

We will endure.

And we will survive.

That is the only possibility I will tolerate.

As for why the bolt is within my hands, what my dad needs to know, these questions are best left to the future.

And there’s a good possibility my dad will ground me for bending the rule in that forthcoming future.